Had a very brief one the other night where I was conversing with an apterite (may have been Spike? Not fully sure), when they mentioned they had seen a 9 that I'd "really like" which turned out to be KETONURIA scrambled up. I'm hoping they meant I'd like the 5vowel-ness of it, not that I actually really like ketonuria.

Dreamt the night before last that me and a team of people (possibly including some apterites) had been selected to play some sort of American professional sport thing. I started practising this and I can only describe it as some sort of cross between hockey, golf and words (it seems the main part of the game involved tapping a ball/balls into some sort of mini goals which had words attached to them (there were 5 goals, you had to say the word on the goals and hit the balls into them in a certain order I think (2 of the balls were numbered 50 and 100). Cut to getting to the stadium, and my maths teacher for some reason has decided to come but starts a raucous argument with a bus driver about his fair, and eventually only gets allowed on the bus because it's pointed out that swinging on the open door of a bus isn't a safe method of travelling. Me and my team decide to walk, but for some reason it now transpires that I'm dead and it's only my ghost that's walking with the team (despite being no different to when I was alive) which means I'm now unable to play (the team also definitely contains a friend of my sister's called Sam who is repeatedly mean to me). Cut to the stadium, and I've managed to get stuck on top of a very high structure that was randomly there. Someone has stolen someone's programme, only for me to then steal it but eventually give it back. I'm now becoming repeatedly panicked because I'm at such a great height (possibly about the height of 2 houses at a rough guess) on an unsafe structure, and shout for help. Luckily, it transpires that Graeme Cole is selling the programmes but has also developed a teleportation device, so he teleports me back to the ground. I then wake up before finding out if we win or if we even play.

With less than 6 weeks left until CO:LON, I've started having regular nightmares in which it's a disaster.

One a few nights ago: I left all my letters and numbers packs at home, so had to get James Robinson to host it in the Bristol style because I refused point blank to host a Bristol-style event. Because my subconscious self is just as relaxed, laid-back and mature as I am irl, I had the biggest tantrum you've ever seen about this - screaming, bawling, rolling around on the floor and pounding my fists into the ground. Apparently my subconscious feels extremely strongly about Bristol style?? Side note: James had packed a spare suit in case of this exact situation happening.

This only stopped when I noticed Callum Todd walking past the venue and decided to follow him. Despite him being a very vocal atheist, it turned out he was going to church... to go to a Srebrenica genocide memorial service. I hadn't been thinking about Srebrenica that day and, to my knowledge, Callum has no affiliation with anything to do with Serbia or Bosnia or the Yugoslav wars, so I have no idea what the fuck was going on there.

Last night's: I had left everything to the last minute and turned up to the venue with loads of stuff half-finished, including the conundrums (which I had to print and finish while hosting). Something I had planned at the start of the event was to sing a song with alternative Countdown lyrics; however, I hadn't finished these either so just started singing the actual lyrics. It was so cringey that I stopped it after 8 lines with the sign-off "And that's the most embarrassing thing that has EVER happened at a Co-event, which is a really high bar to clear!" before running away in embarrassment.

Right then, last night I was apparently in Las Vegas, at a casino that was for some reason being held in my old school's main hall and the only game being played was Blackjack. An apterite I don't recognise wins a decent amount of money, and then we all get thrown out of the casino for something Dylan Taylor did. We end up outside, and Jen decides she wants to make a call on her phone, which is (for some reason) in my rucksack, so she effectively drags me to the floor to open it up and get it out. And then I wake up.

Had one 2 nights ago where I was participating in the crystal maze. My team definitely included Bradley Horrocks and Tim Down. Richard O'Brien may have been hosting it. We'd arrived at out last zone and at this point had won 5 crystals, which was attributed to us doing exceptionally well in the first zone but rubbish in the others. The zone starts with me failing to complete the game in the time and as such should have been locked in, but I managed to somehow talk my way out of being locked in because "Bra would never buy me out" (it's quite possible that he was the team leader and it's entirely possible the other 3 members of our team had been locked in. Clearly Bra also bullies me in dreamland). Next up is Tim Down, who completely fails at a game where you sort of had to navigate in this room, and if you knocked some things down a wire 4 times or something you was locked in. Tim of course does this almost immediately (3 from the off I think) and gets locked in, but not having my persuasive skills remains locked in. I then wake up without knowing what happens but considering now only me and Bra remained and no one had been bought out, and if Bra is anything like reality is completely useless at everything he tries, it's fair to assume we didn't do well in the crystal dome.

Had a dream recently which featured a young, mid 20-s to mid 30-s Asian male player, who on his debut beat Joyce Phillips, despite playing rather averagely (which is no representation of Joyce's real ability ). However, the day after he smashed it beating Ray Wilding with a score in the 120s to Ray's 40, despite Ray getting a 9 which no one had heard of at all, leading people to think that the Asian chap cheated....

Had a dream last night that I attended co:Manchester, which for some reason was being held outside the gate of the back of my house (the place is absolutely overrun with those tall plants that are those plants that explode seeds when you touch their pods in this dream). The new format is introduced, which seems to involve working in pairs to complete a set list of numbered instructions. I pair up with Tracey Mills and we start our list. The first thing on the list is canoeing down a river that just happens to be there (the positioning of the river is a place that does exist near my house, yet no river exists there in real life). I vaguely remember instruction number 4 to be "go through the door", which involved us exiting the door of the next door neighbour's garden we were in. At some point I then go and introduce myself to Tracey (who for some reason is a bright shade of green in colour), despite having been doing the challenges with her so really should have been already quite familiar with her. We then all crowd around someone to find out how we did/get fixtures, whilst I frantically look for Bradley Horrocks (making yet another dream appearance). I must have been drawn against Andy SC, because I find myself playing him in a 9 round game. He takes an early lead, but an early problem ensues when it turns out I'd been doing the score in maxes only, whereas the host (not sure who it was, have a feeling it was Johnny Canuck) had been doing it by standard rules. After establishing the score as something like 22-7 to Andy, I put full turbo mode on and rattle through the rest, winning in the end. Before finding out who my next opponent was, I am woken up.

Had a very brief one the night before last where I heard that the morning Countdown Masters format had been revived (as well as being played on a unique set, which appeared to be a cross between a hardware store and my high school gymnasium), and another brief one last night where it had been announced that Championship of Champions XV was going to start on 19 September of this year.

[This may actually have been 4 or 5 separate dreams, it's hard to tell given how curdled my subconscious is]

Last night I was running a co-event in the Midlands somewhere (may even have been Nottingham) with Jeff Clayton and Lauren Hamer, however the start was delayed as the three of us had to complete community service by spray-painting lines down the middle of a road. For some reason, Jeff and Lauren obsesses over carefully painting every drain cover they see, which delays the co-event even more. We then head back to the events hall, which is a long building about half a mile in length and about twenty metres wide, big enough to house an entire community, and the co-event is taking up the entire bottom floor of the event. We sneak past our community service officers to the event venue, which it turns out is just my bedroom with about five computers in it. After breaking Graeme's program about a dozen times, my bedroom gets invaded by cats, which I scare away by barking like a dog, apart from one stubborn one, which I may or may not have beaten to death. I then wake up.